So What Shall We Do Next Then?
by Yma
Summary: Magneto's away and the Acolytes are stuck between missions with nothing to do. So they try to entertain themselves and... well, it ain't pretty... Featuring, Buffy, Swivelly chairs, Card games, Baywatch and More!


            Disclaimer: Unlike the Acolytes, I'm a good person (honest!) and I don't steal things. So it's my duty to inform everyone that the characters in this fic are not mine, I've only borrowed them. They, and the entire Marvel universe, belong to Marvel and other, powerful people. 

            Notes: A couple of small notes here. 1: I'm not good at accents, I've given Remy one, and tried to make Pyro sound Australian by putting in clichéd Aussie terms. I mean no offence by this, and I'm sorry if I've made too many mistakes. I did not have Remy referring to himself in the third person because I found it confusing in the extreme in this fic, sorry. Oh, and "da" is "yes" in Russian. 2: This story is set between The Stuff of Hero's and Hex Factor. Pietro is an Acolyte, but Mastermind hasn't joined yet. 3: Please remember this is comedy, don't expect excellent, insightful characterisation, just a few laughs. If you want the former, try some of my other fics! 

            PLEASE Read and Review, all reviews will be printed out, put in a secure box, and taken out at regular intervals for me to drool over! (Just kidding!) 

So… What Should We Do Next, Then?

By Yma

            With a drawn out, long suffering sigh, Gambit leaned back against the steel wall of Magneto's secret hide away and made a proclamation.

            'I'm bored. Is everyone else bored?'

            'Da.'

            'Too right, mate.'

            'Always am.'

            'Grrrr.' 

            The Arch-Thief looked around lazily at his fellow companions. They were surely a diverse lot. Next to him, and also resting casually against the wall, was a slender, sliver headed boy, whose arrogant smirk seemed to be etched permanently on his pail features. Pietro Maximoff, here on a brief visit from the Brotherhood.             Standing a few feet away from this boy was large, muscular, dark haired man, with piercing, blue eyes, his countenance grim, silent, Piotr Rasputin was his name.   Sitting cross-legged on the floor was a wiry, blond fellow, older than the silver haired boy, but not all that old, his face bore a strange, manic grin, his eyes glinted unnaturally, St John. 

            Over, a little way away from his fellows, another muscular man slouched, this one with long, ragged, blond hair, glittering, blue eyes, and a body which showed the scars of many a battle, Victor Creed.

            Finally there was Gambit himself, slender, but not so thin as Pietro or St John, his muscles were there, but finely honed. His hair was a reddish brown, and his eyes bright crimson and where the whites should be, only inky darkness. 

            If the inhabitancy of this room were colourful and interesting, the room itself certainly was not. It was a large space, all hard, aesthetic walls with a few glittering computer panels spewed across the surfaces. A couple of crates and barrels stood to the side, and there was even a small, swivelling chair (currently occupied by the savage man, AKA Sabertooth,) but that was about it. 

            'Sooo…' drawled Pyro, 'what should we do next, then?'

            The answer was not soon forthcoming. These five men, all Acolytes of the Master of Magnetism, Magneto, were currently between missions. Magneto himself was out doing some solo mission or other so, until he returned and gave them orders, there were stuck in a rather small space, with very little to occupy their time. 

It was, as you my Gentle Reader should well know, a recipe for disaster.

            'We could play a card game?' suggested Gambit, taking out a deck from his brown trench coat.

            'Card games,' grumbled Colossus, 'I am sick of card games! That is all we've been doing for the last few days! I do not want do play any more of your card games!'

            The other men eyed each other knowingly; all knew the reason for Petyr's protests. Colossus skill at card games, any card game, was remarkable; none of them had ever encountered anyone quite so bad. It was really quite pathetic. This did not, however, prevent them from gathering a large amount of money in the form of bets and gambles from him. It had only been recently, after losing 51 games of Snap in a row, that Piotr had finally cottoned onto his inherent weakness, and how his colleges were exploiting it.

            This, however, was no help to the Cajun; he relied on various card games as a form of entertainment. 

            'Well…' he said slowly, raking his mind for something else to do, 'what about poker?'

            'No! Firstly, it's a card game, and secondly you always cheat!'

            'I resent dat!'

            'It's true, though,' put in Pyro, 'we've all seen you at it.'

            'I said I resented it, I didn't say I denied it, non? Any way… who's up for a game of Blackjack?'

            'I said I did not wish to play any card games,' repeated the Russian muscle man, his fists clenching into balls, a muscle under his left eye twitched alarmingly.

            'Well… what about Old Maid?'

            'Aughhh!' Colossus yelled, his face twisting into a frenzied mask that would have made even Sabertooth back off for a moment and consider, 'I do not wish to play any more card games! I do not wish to play Black-Jack, Poker, Gin-Rummy, Old Maid, Strip-Jack-Naked, Pontoon, Bridge, Solo, Cribbage, Whist, Strip Poker, or any other card related game! Do you understand! NO GAMES WITH CARDS IN THEM!'

            'Oui, oui, mercie,' replied Gambit hastily, putting up his hands in a peace making gesture, 'I'm sorry. I was just trying to be helpful!'

            Colossus backed off, returning to his previous position, he stood tall, his arms crossed and his face grim and set.

            For a moment the room was silent. 

            'So…' said Gambit at last, 'how does anyone feel about a game of Snap?'

            'AUGHHHHHH!'

            Colossus, screaming like a banshee, lunged towards the Cajun. 

            Luckily enough for the thief, a wall of fire erupted between them, and Colossus was surprised enough to back off.

            All eyes turned to the Australian, who was now standing up, gripping his flame thrower.

            'Come on, mates,' he chuckled, turning off the flame thrower and ending the wall of fire, 'we're all friends here, right? There's other things we can do.'

            'Such as?' all four of his comrades spoke in unison.

            'Well, we could always burn something?'

            'What do we burn?' asked Pietro, casting his eyes about the bare, metal room.

            'Well… anything really, if it's combustible it's all good.'

            'Comrade,' said Colossus gently, 'this room is entirely metal, there is nothing in here to burn.'

            For a moment St John's face crumpled, making him seem almost childlike. Then suddenly it brightened, 'there's always Remy's cards! They'd be good to burn. Right?'

            'Da!' said Colossus enthusiastically, 'da, very good!'

            'NON! You are not touching any of my cards!'

            'Oh, come on,' wined Pietro, 'you've got to admit, it's better than standing round doing nothing. And it's just a pack of cards.'

            'But d'ese are "Hellion" (1) cards,' protested Gambit. 

            'What the hell's a Hellion card?' growled Sabertooth quizzically.

            Gambit grinned widely, he dug a pack of cards out of his pockets, his eyes had a strange, far away look about them.

            'Hellion cards are amongst some of de most exclusive, yet economic playing cards on de market,' intoned the Cajun, his voice sounding somewhat strange, 'each card is emblazoned with de characteristic markings. However, de Royalty and Aces have been exclusively designed by talented Hellion artists, and feature an updated image. Yet dey also remain in the same traditional style that generations of players love and recognise. Hard wearing, light, and flexible, Hellion cards are perfect for throwing and magic tricks. They're made out of recycled cardboard, too, so dey're eco-friendly as well as economic. D'eir excellent quality makes them de perfect gift, guaranteed to last a lifetime without tearing or fading. And dey're cheep, too! Only 4.99 at your local stationeries. I don't know about you guys, but I think dat Hellion's cards are a hell of a deal!'

            'Uh, Remy,' said Pyro, cautiously, 'are you alright, mate?'

            'Huh?' said Gambit, braking out of his strange, bright eyed trance, 'oh, oui, sorry… old habits.'

            'Huh?'

            'Years back, before I joined Magneto, before I became a thief, I worked in advertising. I did a few card adverts and dey sort of ingrained themselves in my head.' 

            'Ooh,' cooed Pietro, 'you were an actor?'

            'Sure, I always wanted to be an actor; dat was one of my three career choices.'

            'What were the other two?' 

            'Well, it was either being an actor, a thief, or a tax collector. I didn't have much success as an actor, and I had trouble choosing between the last two, but I decided to be a thief, more honest.'

            'Too bloody right,' agreed Pyro, 'at least thieves don't make bad excuses about stealing your cash!'

            'Why weren't you successful as an actor?' asked Colossus.

            'Well… I don't know, could have been de way I kept pinching all the actresses butts… but I got a small part in Baywatch once, though.'

            'You were in Baywatch!' gasped Pietro.

            'Sure, I had de muscles, and with some sunglasses…' 

            'Cool!' cooed the speedster, and the other men nodded too (except Colossus, who'd never seen Baywatch.)

            'So,' asked Sabertooth at last, 'You met Pamela Anderson? Are her boobs really that big?'

            'Oh yeah.'

            'Wow,' muttered Pyro, 'that really IS a super power!'

            For a moment they were silent, contemplating this interesting information.

            'You know what we need,' growled Sabertooth at last, shifting in the swivelled chair slightly, 'women.'

            The others nodded morosely, but Pyro grinned again, 'I can handle that!' he cackled and, turning on his flame thrower. From the nozzle emerged an enormous tongue of fire. Within a few seconds pyro-mancer shaped the chaotic, flickering flames into a new, more structured shape. That of a woman, naked, voluptuous, dancing seductively.

            'Whoa…' said Pietro, a puddle of drool quickly forming on the floor beneath him.

            'Um, dat's nice, John,' said Remy, 'but I t'ink dat de lady be a little too hot to handle, I don't mix too well with untouchable girls.'

            'Yeah,' grunted Sabertooth, who was shielding his eyes, 'and too bright by far. Put it out punk, I don't like bein' teased with it.'

            Pyro pouted childishly, but did as he was told, turning of the flame thrower. The naked fire nymph blinked out of existence, much to the disappointment of Pietro.

            'It's not fair,' grumbled Pyro, 'I still say we should burn something.'

            Silence settled in again.

            'So…' grumbled Sabertooth, 'what should we do next, then?'

            'Pietro,' said Remy at last, 'you know all about keepin' yourself occupied. Tell us, what did you and de Brotherhood do when you were bored?' 

            Pietro tilted his head to the side, considering, 'well,' he said at last, 'mostly we used to play tricks, annoy the X-geeks, destroy random property, that sorta thing…'

            'But what about when you were stuck inside?' persisted Remy.

            'Ummm, we sometimes played pranks on each other… and every now and then we played cards-'

            'Hey, dat's a good-'

            'NO!'

            'But mostly,' continued Pietro, ignoring the brief interruptions, 'we just sat round and watched TV. Have we got a TV here?'

            'Nope,' said Pyro.

            'But, we've got super-computers-and-ray-guns-and- andhowamIgonnacatchmyfavouriteprogramsifthere'snoTV! Ican'tbeievethis!'

            'Tell me about it,' sighed Pyro, when he had mentally translated Pietro's babble, 'I've not seen a good James Bond film in ages. God, I miss those explosions!'

            'Da,' agreed Colossus, 'I miss my art programs. There was one on Picasso a few nights ago, too…'

            'And I've missed almost an entire season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer,' added Gambit morosely, 'and I wanted to see if her and Spike would get it together…'

            'They did,' grunted Sabertooth from his corner, 'it was this weird, violent, primeval thing, lotsa gruntin' and screamin'. Pretty good.'

            'I knew it!' crowed Gambit, punching his fist in the air, 'girls can never resist de bad boy!'

            'Yeah,' agreed Victor, 'didn't last long, though. She kinda realized what a freak she was bein,' dumped him. Then he went all psycho on her, tried to rape her in the bathroom, an' ran off. It's near the end of the season now but, personally, I reckon it's been the best yet.'

            'He raped her?' echoed Gambit incredulously, 'I never thought that Spike would-'

            'Uh, hey, Sabes,' interrupted Pietro, 'if you don't mind me asking, how do you know this any way, if we haven't got a TV?'

            'Well…' said Sabertooth, actually sounding a little uncomfortable, 'you know when I got off, all lonesome like, to hunt down Logan…'

            'Yeah?'

            'Well, that's not really what I do. I mean, I sometimes have a quick look for him, right but… generally I just go back to this small apartment I have and catch up on some Buffy.'

            The other four Acolytes looked at him open mouthed, as if they could barely believe what they were hearing.

            'But, Sabertooth,' breathed Pyro at last, 'I thought you were a creature of the wild, mate!'

            'Well… I watch nature documentaries too,' Victor muttered, 'and Pet Rescue, sometimes…'

            'Pet Rescue?' said Colossus, his eyes widening, 'why, Victor, I never took you for the caring type. I see you have a softer side to you.'

            'I only watch it for ideas,' protested Sabertooth, 'once they had this thing with some baby bunnies, and their owner stuck pins through their eyes! Can't wait to go down to the pet shop and try that out myself.'

            'Really?' muttered Pyro, 'well, how about settin' them alight after, like. Could be kinda funny…'

            'Yeah, I thought of that. But there's this other thing I wanna try first. See, you takes this carrot and shove it up-'

            'I can not believe this!' cried out Piotr suddenly, 'you are talking about torturing little animals! This is monstrous! Surely we can find something better to spend out time doing? Can we not look into our artistic, sensitive sides? Can we not try to better ourselves though creativity, rather than degrading ourselves through destructive, violent acts? Are we not all men? And are we not better than this… this mindless, savage, childish destruction? Why not think of artistic, creative endeavours? Such as painting, music, sculpture and writing? Would that not be better?'

            For a moment silence reined in the room, Colossus pleas still echoing round, ringing off the mettle walls until they disappeared entirely. It was a while before any of the Acolytes could fill the gap of that silence, could respond to the Russian's passionate words.

            'So…' said Pietro at last, 'why not set the carrot on fire, then use it on the baby bunny, best of all worlds.'

            'Great idea, mate!'

            'You've got some style, shrimp, I'll give you that.'

            'Please don't call me shrimp, not while Pyro's here. Remember what happened last time?'

            'Shrimp on the Barbie! Hehehehe!' 

            There was a deep sigh, and a regular clunking sound as Colossus began to rhythmically bang his head against the wall.

            'It's all fairly useless anyway,' said Gambit, ignoring his comrade, 'we ain't got no baby bunnies or any other animals, we're de only livin' things in here. And don't look, at me like dat, Sabertooth, 'cos we ain't got no pins or carrots either. And I ain't about to volunteer to be any sort of animal for your amusement.'

            'Damn, that's my main source of entertainment down the drain,' huffed Victor, 'I hate stayin' anywhere where their ain't nothin' to kill.'

            'Come on Pietro,' said Gambit, 'there must be somethin' to do! Hay, what about ol' bucket head? He got anythin' interesting in his room?'

            'How do you know I've been in his room?'

            'You're his son, 'sides, if he told you not to go in d'ere, you'd take it as a challenge, an' you can't resist a challenge.'

            'Ok, so I've been in there. But there isn't anything interesting.'

            'Nothing?' echoed St John, 'come on, he must have some way of relaxing, a hobby or something…'

            Pietro shrugged, 'he's pretty into Monster Trucks, but that's no help… Um… he used to play chess too, but he doesn't do that any more.'

            'Why not?' the question came from Colossus, who'd finally stopped banging his head against the wall, and was now rubbing his temples, a pained expression on his face.

            'He said that, way back, he and Xavier used to play it loads. He had this special, silver and jet set, pride of his life. But one day he leant it to ol' baldy for a few weeks and, somehow, he lost a couple of the pieces. Dad was really, really angry at him after that, I think it's what started the entire rivalry thing off, really. But he hasn't played chess since, any way, so there isn't one in his room.'

            'Ain't no problem, kid,' said Sabertooth, I can never remember how those shrimp things move anyway.'

            'Shrimps?' muttered Pietro, 'you mean prawns?'

            'Put 'em on the barbie, mate!'

            'Yeah, (shut up Pyro,) those.'

            'Actually it's Pawns,' put in Gambit, but no one paid any attention to him.

            'Hay, Pietro,' giggled Pyro suddenly, moving closer, 'did you have a real good look? I mean, did you spot any… um… reading material in his room?'

            'There were a couple of books,' said Pietro slowly, 'mostly old, dusty things with really dumb titles. And no, I don't think burning them is a good move, he'd kill you.'

            'Weren't talking about that,' protested Pyro (much to the surprise of all,) 'though it's a pretty good idea… no, I mean… you know… reading material… magazines… magazines with… ladies in them?'

            'Firstly,' said Pietro 'Ewww, that my dad you're talking about. Secondly, yep, I did have a really good look, and thirdly no, he doesn't have any magazines like that. Though he does have a rather interesting collection of fridge magnets.'

            Gambit sighed, this didn't sound terribly hopeful, 'you sure he ain't got anything?'

            'Nope, not a thing. Not even one of those calendars… but he does have a lot of picture of Xavier for some reason… and they show a *lot* of Xavier, too, if you get what I'm saying.'

            As one the Acolytes shuddered at this, that was not an image they needed in their heads.

            'Come on!' cried Gambit at last, 'he's an evil, Super Villain, he must have some hobby! There has to be something to do in this place!'

            'I guess being an evil Super Villain's a full time job,' said Pietro, 'sorry about that, but it's not my fault my father's a boring old fart.'

            'What about the computers?' said Colossus suddenly, 'I hear they can be used for entertainment?'

            'You know,' drawled Pyro, 'the Ruskie might have got something there. Most of these computers aren't built for games, but… follow me!'

            The Australian rushed to the opposite wall, where he began to fiddle with one of the computers. The others, save Sabertooth who was not remotely interested in playing computer games, followed him.

            After a few moments of fiddling Pyro managed to turn the machine on, it came up with the familiar chiming that marked it out as a windows operated system. 

            'The boss uses this to write letters and E-mails on,' he explained, 'he's only got the basics on… but I reckon that should be enough…'

            As soon as the familiar Windows screen came up, Pyro went to the start menu and, after a little looking, found the Games section.

            'Oooh, look!' cried Gambit, pushing St John out of the way and grabbing hold of the mouse, 'Solitaire!' 

            He'd just clicked on the icon when the computer screen stopped working.

            It stopped working because Colossus, with an almost animalistic scream of rage, had smashed his fist through it.

            For a moment there was complete silence except for the deep laughing of Sabertooth and the tinkling of glass.

            'Crap,' muttered Pietro at last, 'you broke the computer… Magneto's gonna kill you!'

            'Oh well done, mate,' spat St John, 'that's our only source of entertainment down the bloody drain!'

            'Sorry…' muttered Piotr, though he didn't sound all to apologetic, 'but there muse be _something else we can do here.'_

            'Yeah, genius?' spat Gambit, 'so what do we do next, d'en?'

            For a moment all the Acolytes looked round the large, bare room. It didn't look that promising.

            'Well…' Pietro, 'there's always the swivelling chair, it's got wheels on the bottom too, see. I went on it on my first day.'

            'Kept you amused, did it?' asked Gambit, dryly. 

            'For a couple of minutes,' replied the Speedster.

            'Fantastic.' Gambit's tone was sarcastic.

            'Hold on,' said Pyro, 'it's better than nothing. And Pietro gets board easy; I bet we could enjoy ourselves for ten minutes on that thing!'

            'John,' said Colossus kindly, 'five minutes isn't all that long. Besides, spending our time playing with spinning chairs is childish in the extreme. I will not allow myself to be degraded to such a level.'

             'Yeah,' grunted Sabertooth from his corner, 'and 'sides, you ain't getting me off this thing in a hurry, I like havin' the only chair on the place.'

            'Oh come on, mates,' implored Pyro, 'five minutes is better than nothing, it might even be fun!'

            'It will be a cold day in hell,' said Gambit curtly, 'before Remy Le'beau is so desperate he seeks entertainment from a spinning chair… even if it got wheels on.'

*Half an hour later*

            'WHEEEEEEEEEE!'

            Gambit screamed jubilantly as he careened round the room on the swivelling chair, pushed by Pietro. In an act of daring, he pushed himself onto his feet, using his staff to keep himself balanced. He was pleased to hear a round of applause from the other Acolytes.

            Suddenly, Pietro stopped the ride, nearly causing the Cajun to lose his footing.   Luckily enough, he managed to remain standing and jumped off gracefully.

            'Dat was fantastic!' he crowed.

            'My go next!' proclaimed Pyro, 'get back behind the chair, Pietro!'

            The speedster only shook his head, and waved his arms. For the past half an hour he had been pushing Gambit and Pyro and even Sabertooth round on the chair. 

            'I'm done in,' he gasped, 'let Colossus or Sabertooth push each other round for a bit.'

            The two larger mutants grinned at this, they had already had more goes than anyone else due to the fact that (with the exception of the very first go, when Pietro had pushed Victor) the speedster hadn't the strength to do it himself, so they took turns in pushing for each other. 

            'Oh come on, mate!' protested Pyro, 'let me have a go!'

            'But Pietro's tired,' said Colossus, 'he needs a rest, thus it is our go. Right, Victor?'

            'Right, Ruskie, your turn or mine?'

            'Hold on, hold on,' said the pyromaniac, moving towards the chair, 'I've got an idea…'

            Taking of his fuel pack he attached his flame thrower to the back of the seat.

            Pietro, suddenly catching on to what Pyro was trying to do, said 'Um… John, is that such a good idea?'

            His words fell on deaf ears though as, St John, sitting on the chair; he already turned on his flame thrower. 

            The result was a huge burst of flame from the back of the chair, which pushed Pyro off, rocketing him (quite literally) forwards.

            His colleagues watched in amazement as he zoomed forward, propelled by his flame jets. Using his Pyrokinetic powers he controlled the direction of the flame, which enabled him to turn corners, spin round and do all manner of tricks.

            Things were going quite well, and quite spectacularly, until Pyro, taking a brief opportunity to wave at his comrades, briefly lost concentration and the chair, passenger, flame thrower and all, crashed into a wall.

            Pyro, remarkably, came out of it reasonably unscathed, as did his flame thrower. The chair, however, was mangled and melted beyond all repair.

            'Well done, you idiot,' spat Gambit, 'you broke it!'

            'Yeah,' agreed Sabertooth, 'and I've lot my sitting place. I've got half a mind to gut you for that.'

            Colossus sighed, and looked sadly at the smashed seating, 'so,' he rumbled at last, 'what should we do next, then?'

            'We could play cards?'

            'Let's kill something!'

            'Let's have a race!'

            'Let's burn everything!'

            'We could have a philosophical discussion and examine our more sensitive, artistic sides?'

            They considered these options for a moment, but all of them were useless.         There was nothing to kill and nothing to burn. Racing with Pietro was futile in the extreme, and playing any card games would result in Colossus going completely berserk. And as for exploring their artistic and sensitive sides… Well, there was more sensitivity and creativity in your average turnip than could be found in all the Acolytes combined (save Piotr.) 

            Then, with the suddenness of a light bulb being activated, Pietro zipped over to St John and whispered something in his ear. The Australian started to giggle, manically.

            'What ya' talking about, runt?' growled Sabertooth.

            'Just something we used to do back at the Brotherhood,' replied Pietro.

            'And that was?' asked Gambit, willing to try anything at this stage.

            'Well, sometimes we used to go into Mystiques room, take out all her clothes, and try them on. Some of them looked pretty good, in fact. Though they were a bit of a stretch on Blob.'

            Gambit tilted his head and thought of his last visit to the Brotherhood, 'you know,' he said at last, 'that explains a lot.'

            'Such as?'

            'Why you guys are such losers, for one. Any way, it's useless because d'ere ain't no Mystique here, and because, even if she was, I would never sink so low as trying on any of her clothes. Blue just ain't my- hey, do you smell something?'

            Victor sniggered, and from Pyro there came a manic giggle. Gambit spun round and, too his horror, found that the back of his trench coat was on fire.

            'My coat!' he wailed, shaking the thing off. No sooner was it off his shoulders than he began to jump up and down on it, smothering the flames. When it was safe, he picked it up and inspected it. The back was completely ruined.

            'Who-' he asked, but soon realized the question was mute, there was only one person in the room who would, or even could, do such a thing.

            'Pyro…' he growled, taking out his staff, 'dat was my COAT! MY COAT! NO ONE TOUCHES MY COAT!'

            'Hehehehe!' giggled Pyro, 'pretty flames!'

            'Ooooo,' hissed Gambit, 'you are so dead! I'm gonna ram dis stick up your fuel pipe, chien!'

            'Gotta catch me first, you bloody French poofster!'

            With this, Gambit gave a dreadful scream, and charged. 

            The three remaining Acolytes watching the fight with interested, none of them doing anything to intervene. At least they had some entertainment now.

            'Hey, Speedy,' muttered Sabertooth, speaking low, 'before, when you where whispering to Pyro, you told him to set fire to the Cajun's coat, didn't ya?'

            'Yep,' replied Pietro nonchalantly, 'this is another thing we Brotherhood boys did when we were bored, see. We fought. Kept us entertained, and trained. You gonna tell them?'

            'Nah, nice work, by the way, bit of mindless violence is good for the soul.'

            Colossus only shook his head sadly. Later he'd go into a corner and cry at the sheer stupidity of it.

*An Hour Later*

            The fight had ended, Gambit stood silently, leaning on his staff (now held together by only sticky tape). His face and hands were covered in salve for his burns; one of his arms was in a sling.

            Pyro was no better, his flame thrower had been destroyed, his lip was swollen, both his eyes were black, and he wouldn't be able to sit down properly for a very long, long time. If ever.

            They stood there silently with the other Acolytes, Colossus (his head bandaged because he had banged it against he walls too much) Pietro (still exhausted from pushing chairs around) and Sabertooth, grumpy with having no where to sit. Silence ruled supreme between them in that large, empty, metallic room.

            'So,' said Pietro, breaking the harmonious stillness, 'what should we do next, then?'

THE END.  

            (1) The Hellion company and advertisement was just made up by me. Any links to the real world is entirely coincidental. 

            I hate writing humorous fics. I get these ideas, and I *think* they're funny, but when you put them on paper they seem so… not. Anyway, I'll leave it to you to decide. Please RnR!


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